Han’s runner reached the upper road with the warning that furnace pressure might vent through the lower channel.
Ning was with the evacuees, checking the household count beside the carts. The runner gave his message twice, then pointed back toward the station. The people nearest him stopped packing. A driver held the reins of the clean-water wagon and asked whether they were supposed to leave the barrels behind.
“Take only the smaller barrels,” Ning said. “Move the wagons farther uphill.”
“The big cart holds the whole cistern supply.”
“And the cart can be lost in a pressure blast. Then the water is gone too.”
The driver still hesitated. The water had been counted, loaded and guarded through the route. It was the first solid thing they had been able to carry from the quarry. He had spent the night sleeping beside the wagon so no one would take a barrel. The thought of leaving the large cart behind felt like losing the whole supply. Ning did not argue with him about its worth. She called two residents to bring the smaller wagons and had them unload the barrels into separate loads. The driver helped, one barrel at a time, until the heavy cart stood empty.
